


Blame the L Train

by DeadlyKittenKay (PrettyBlueIz)



Series: Facebook Prompts [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Facebook propmt, Fluff, L train, M/M, Random Wolf Lady, Swearing, destiel forever prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-27 10:45:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10013870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettyBlueIz/pseuds/DeadlyKittenKay
Summary: Based on the following prompt:"Cas is a subway veteran having a hard day. He flops into the nearest empty seat, not even noticing the attractive green eyed passenger next to him. Not until something nudges his foot. Cas shifts a few inches away, tossing an irritable glance at the stranger. Another nudge, this time alongside his ankle and Cas has had enough - cute freckles be damned, this guy needs to keep his feet to himself!"





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Carry_On_Destiel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carry_On_Destiel/gifts).



> This is for the ladies at Destiel Forever. Hope you all enjoy.
> 
> Also keep in mind, I know squat about the L lines in Chicago. Thank goodness for online train maps! lol

Castiel has had the worst days of his life. The blue line this morning was late, making him miss his usual red line train, ultimately making him late for work. Some broad on the red line not only drenched him in her offensively sweet floral perfume trying to hide her own stench of cigarette smoke, but she also dumped half of her coffee down his leg. So naturally, he shows up to the proposal meeting with Zachariah Alder and cronies twenty minutes late. Cherry on the cake? He comes in smelling like and eighteenth century whore who somehow had a Starbucks addiction.

If that wasn’t enough, he had to deal with whiny clients, asshole higher-ups and his older brother's calls every ten minutes to get his opinion on desserts. It wasn’t even his wedding for fucks sake! 

Needless to say, when he see that all trains are running on time at this five o’clock hour, he's grateful and cannot wait to get to his studio loft and have a Netflix binge for the next fourty-eight hours. 

That is until he’s on the final leg off his journey. He’s so exhausted from the day's events that all he sees is a empty seat between a elder woman wrapped in fur and some greaser throwback in the leather jacket.

Normally he avoids being close to people. Especially this close to the loop, but today he could give fuck all to his norms as apparently they haven’t done shit for him today. So he flops down on the bench. He clutches his messenger bag to his lap and lays his head back with a heavy, bone weary sigh. 

Not even five minutes into the nearly two hour ride is his peace being tested. Greaser to his right has started nudging his foot into Castiel’s. Castiel huffs, trying to move away but not to close to wolf lady. He makes sure to glare at the greaser who is smirking at him. Castiel pretend that he doesn’t notice the emerald green eyes that sparkle at him or the way they are framed by full thick lashes and freckles on his cheeks and nose.

No, Castiel does not notice that at all. 

Another five minutes pass and Castiel lets out a sigh of relief as greaser has decided to leave him alone. Wolf lady is trying to make conversation but Castiel is entitled to one day of being an asshole, so he chooses tonight to steadily ignore her questions and the rumbling whiskey laced voice to his right.

Yes, because that will work perfectly. Even if the voice is soothing like a lullaby and is luring Castiel to sleep. Not like that’s what’s happening at this moment. 

Suddenly there’s another nudge, only this time, it’s not toe of boot nudging the side of Castiel’s wing-tips. No this time it’s a blatant rub up and down Castiel’s ankle.  _ What the hell!? _

“Personal space, heard of it?” Castiel snaps at the greaser, who gives him a cheeky grin in return.

“Sorry man, I can’t control them,” he said grabbing his own knees. Castiel doesn’t understand the reference

Castiel rolls his eyes and sends praises to the Lord almighty as wolf lady starts to collect her bags, getting ready to depart at Damen. That’s when he also notices that the greaser is getting up as well. While Castiel should not - and does not - regret knowing he’s leaving as well, he can't help but feel as if his penance has been paid.

He watches from the corner of his eye as the green eyed cutie stands up and moves to wolf lady. He bites back a laugh, now understanding why the man had said about his knees, because watching him stand, clearly he was bowlegged.

Not that it was a bad, thing. Oh no, that added to his charm. The charm Castiel is choosing to ignore. 

He closes his eyes as the train pulls into the station. This time of night, the crowd will lessen and he will have his space. Only eleven more stops until he can get off at Rosemont and go home. He hears the commuters shuffle out the open doors. The warning tones of the doors closing and the gentle hum as the train begins to leave the station.

He’s tempted to look around, see just how many commuters left at Damen. Maybe even to see if he could get a window seat to himself, but he decides against it. Pulling his trench coat tighter for warmth content to sit right there as is. 

The train has made it to five more stops before Castiel is pestered again. Once the train has left the station at Addison, he feels someone press their knee against his. He groans and squints at the offender with one eye. 

Green eyes.

“I thought you left,” Castiel mumbles. 

The man besides him laughs. “Nah, man. I was being a gentleman and helping an old lady safely to the platform.”

“Well aren’t you just a hero of the year?” Castiel sounds childish and he knows it. He watches as green eyes shrugs and rubs the back of his neck. An endearing quality if Castiel was paying attention to endearing things about the man. Which he’s totally not.

“She gave me a bottle of wine as thanks. Wanna split it?” the man asks holding the bottle up. A hopeful expression on his face. 

Castiel flicks his blue eyes to the bottle. The label is familiar and he lets out a gasp when he reads it.  _ Tardieu-Laurent 2007 Mourvèdre. _

“You okay there, Buddy? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” 

Castiel shakes his head. “It’s odd that she would have my favorite wine, down to the vintage and winery.”

“This French thing?” Green eyes asks as he looks at the bottle. “She said she didn’t like it. Too savory or something. I figured, wine is wine.”

Castiel rolled his eyes and leaned his head back against wall of the train. “Take it home to your girlfriend. Surprise her into thinking that you are a cultured individual.”

Green eyes huffs and mutters something under his breath. “Alright, I get it. You want to be alone.”

Castiel closes his eyes. He wants to apologize but at the same time he doesn’t. After all this is just some random stranger he’s never going to see again and after the shit show of a day he had, Castiel thinks he’s entitled to use up some bad karma points.

“Let it breath about thirty minutes before you serve it. Reds need to be exposed to air to reach their full flavor profile. And if you serve it with foods, I recommend cheese, such as Brie or Chaumes. And serve it with crusty bread not ritz crackers.” Castiel looks over to see green eyes gaping at him. “What?”

“How do you know that shit?”

“Personal experience,” Castiel shrugs his shoulder.

“A lover who was French?” 

Castiel laughs. “Oh no. I experienced it in France. Fell more in love with the cheese, wine and the company. Just heed my warning about letting it breath and I bet she’ll let you do whatever you want in bed.”

An adorable blush started to creep along green eyes’ neck and cheeks, his freckles becoming more pronounced.

“Th-T-Thanks,” he stutters before standing up. They’re approaching the next station and Castiel figured this was the guys stop.

“So I’ll see ya next time?” Green eye’s asks.

Castiel gives him a small smile. “I’d like that. Would love to hear your thoughts on the wine.” He watches as the man nods and gives a small wave before exiting the train. Castiel closes his eyes. Two more stops until he’s home.

**~*~*~*~*~**

The walk to his place from the station isn’t that far. He stops off at a corner mart, picking up a six pack of beer before heading to the florists down the block. After selecting a beautiful mix of yellow Asiatic lilies and roses, pink tulips and blue delphiniums to brighten up the loft, he is ready to go home.

Once his key has turned in the lock and he pushes the door open and is greeted with the sound of light piano playing and the smell of garlic and onions.

“I’m home!” He calls out, placing his keys on the key ring by the door. There’s no response but judging by the whistling in the area of the kitchen, the chef is busy. He uses the time to remove his shoes, both his trench and suit coat and hang his bag up. He takes the flowers with his to the kitchen where he finds his love.

“Dirty trick with the wine, Dean,” Castiel says as he grabs a vase from above the fridge. 

Dean looks over his shoulder and grins at him. “Hey you wanted to play. But you backed out.”

Castiel nodded his head and filled the vase before placing the flowers in it. He feels Dean wraps his arms around his waist, warm breath tickles his neck as soft kisses make their way up to the tender flesh behind his ear.

“Rough day?” Dean asks between soft open mouthed kisses as Castiel moves his head to give him better access and only hmms in response. 

“I could have guessed, you were a dick.” Dean adds.

Castiel moves his head to look Dean in the face. Green eyes dancing in delight, fanned by thick lashes and freckles along his cheeks and nose. 

“Says the one who pulled out our wedding wine on the freaking blue line.”

Dean nips playfully at Castiel’s lips, trying his best to loosen him up. He pouts a little when Cas doesn’t take the bait and kiss him properly.

With a sigh, Dean pulls himself from Cas. “Go get something comfortable on. Dinner’s almost ready.”

“Dean?” Cas says softly as Dean turns his back to him. 

“Yeah, Cas?”

“Happy anniversary, Greaser.”

**Author's Note:**

> L train maps [here](http://www.transitchicago.com/assets/1/maps/ctatrainmap.png)  
> Castiel's Flowers <="http://www.daniellesrockawayflorist.com/images/spring/025.jpg">here
> 
> Any errors you find are mine and mine alone.


End file.
